| Now my old friend Harry
|
| Never slowed down to marry
|
| He’s in sales
|
| He’s gone most of the year
|
| And he smiles through all those lies
|
| With dollar signs in his eyes
|
| He orders himself another beer
|
| Now Harry, he’s a dreamer
|
| And a scholar and a schemer
|
| But he’ll be there for you
|
| When push comes to shove
|
| His mama called him Harold
|
| She was one of only two women
|
| That Harry ever loved
|
| The other was a waitress
|
| In Cave Creek, Arizona
|
| That broke his heart
|
| And tangled up his mind
|
| My old friend Harry
|
| Looking kinda scary
|
| Wonders if he’s runnin' out of time
|
| Now Biloxi, he’s got a sadness
|
| Like a dark day in December
|
| But Harry recognizes
|
| An old forgotten southern times
|
| Thumbing through the phone book
|
| For a name he can’t remember
|
| Lookin' desperate like a junkie
|
| Waitin' for a fix to come around
|
| Sittin', playin' blackjack
|
| With a hooker and a tourist
|
| And a one eyed dealer winnin' every hand
|
| Harry sips Black Label
|
| Slumps down at the table
|
| Feelin' like a fraction of a man
|
| Feelin' like a fraction of a man |